


The world is shit, but we can get through it.

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Attempt at Humor, Awesome Clint Barton, BAMF Gamora (Marvel), BAMF Natasha Romanov, BAMF Pepper Potts, BAMF Peter Parker, Blood, Blood and Injury, Brunnhilde | Valkyrie (Marvel) Feels, Brunnhilde | Valkyrie (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Brunnhilde | Valkyrie (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Bunch of A-holes, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton Feels, Clint deserves as much love as the rest of the original six, Clint is great, Dark Avengers - Freeform, Drugs, Eventual Relationships, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Fight me on that, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gangs, Good Friend Ned Leeds, Hamilton References, How Do I Tag, Humor, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kidnapping, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Loki (Marvel) is a Good Bro, M/M, Minor Character Death, My First Work in This Fandom, Natasha Romanov Feels, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Nightmares, Parent Peter Quill, Peter Quill would be a great dad, Peter is a Little Shit, Please Send Help, Protective Avengers, Protective Gamora (Marvel), Regret, So much angst, Stucky Is Cannon, Swearing, Teen Crush, Threats, Unrequited Love, Violence, Why Did I Write This?, i am running on coffee and no sleep, im british and know nothing of america and how it works, irregular updates, like seriously, mantis deserves the world, smol beans, sorry - Freeform, trust me when i say it only gets worse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2020-11-23 20:49:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20895908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Manhattan, one of New York City’s most crime ridden places, wasn't what most would suspect from the place. Drug cartels, hitmen, human smuggling, common murders to set up deaths; and through these jobs, you had the gangs. The Avengers, The Revengers and The Guardians and then of course you had the stray people who helped with jobs from getting alibies, or being their getaway driver, to working undercover within the police force.





	1. Manhattan, what a troubled place to live.

Manhattan, one of New York City’s most crime ridden places, wasn't what most would suspect from the place. Drug cartels, hitmen, human smuggling, common murders and set up deaths; and through these jobs, you had the gangs. The Avengers, The Revengers and The Guardians and then of course you had the stray people who helped with jobs from getting alibias, or being their getaway driver, to working undercover within the police force.

The Avengers were the gangs of all gangs to be feared. Their leader went by the name Iron-Man. He was never one to turn down a job, big or small. Man of steel with an unknown identity, He had never and will never be caught. The gang belonged to his father, it was passed down through the generations. He developed all the tech for the gangs of Manhattan, there was nothing you could give him that he couldn't improve. When he wasn't being Iron-Man, he was Tony Stark: world wide billionaire with the smile to melt every man and woman's heart. To the public, despite his past, he was what everyone wanted to be.

Tony was short, shortest on the team. Dark brown hair and a neatly trimmed goatee with olive tan skin and chocolate brown eyes. He hid behind sunglasses tinted every colour under the sun. Smart suits or slacks, never anything in between. 

His right hand man went by the name Captain. He was an ex-army soldier from the age of sixteen, quitting after the death of his friend who thought of as blood got covered up. He was the muscle behind the whole operation, using shields and guns made from the finest materials.

Steven Rogers was his name and he looked like america’s golden boy. A head of combed dirty blond hair and a shaggy beard that he and his boyfriend thought looked good despite everyone else’s opinions. A hidden rage was in baby blue eyes, a rage about a cover up. His friend was James Barnes and he was kidnapped, never killed. A rage that was fueled by that was a rage to be feared.

You than had The Black Widow. Her real name was unknown by all apart from her partner so everyone called her by one of her aliases. She was a trained assassin from the age of ten, skilled in all types of combat, kill count higher than you’ve had hot meals. The russian red-head was fluent in all languages, dead ones and newly emerging ones. She was the most feared, most agile, most deadly, most silent. She and her partner were the duo that could make you shit yourself if they said ‘boo’.

Like what was said, nobody knew her name, at least no-one alive did. So they called her Natasha. Natasha Romanoff. She was beautiful. Red hair, curly and tamed, framing her creamy skin and button nose. Green eyes that held buried secrets. Lips painted red and nails painted black. Secrets was what kept the group safe, and of course the red head was their secret keeper.

The infamous Hawkeye, trained side by side with Natasha. Working for a secret agency, raised in a circus, without Natasha, he would be dead. He left S.H.I.E.L.D after they covered up his family’s death and tried to capture Natasha, and he instead joined the Avengers at Natasha’s side. He worked as the eyes, firing with nothing but a bow and arrow. 

Clint was his name, Clinton Barton. Rugged looks, shaggy hair that was both blonde and brown. Plasters covered his face, scars showed his struggle. Clint lost his hearing after a mission in Budapest, rendering him eighty percent deaf, but oh boy, if you thought that would stop him, well, let's just say, the man who shot at him lost his head in a dirty river and his eyes were found bottled in a jaw full of his teeth and nails at the top of the Empire State Building. 

Then the brains, Doctor Robert Bruce Banner. A stray scientist on the run from the government after an experiment gone wrong. Working with anger management, the Doctor helped with injuries, medicated the group with what would end him up in jail and keeping the plan steady. He didn't go out, he was the voice, the hacker, the one who kept the mission from going wrong when Steve’s attitude got sick and on everyone’s nerves. The one who kept Tony from getting killed. He was the brains over brawn and one of the most valued members of the gang.

The muscle belonged to the God of Thunder. Where he lacked in common knowledge, he gained in, well, strength. He knocked out the guys; had a thundery temper in interrogation and decided that a sledge hammer was the best weapon he’d ever laid hands on. The long blonde haired man was the first line of defense, his gear seemingly resistant to bullets. He had a track record, caught on tape and CCTV cameras but, surprisingly, had never ended up in jail. 

If you looked up his legal documents, you’d find his name known as Tom, the last person who called him Tom mysteriously died so he went by Thor Odinson and he was a force to be reckoned with. Home life was reck. He was spoilt, arrogant and selfish. Being banished from his family smoothed out the edges but still, nobody was perfect.

In the Guardians, you had Rocket Racoon, Peter Quill, Gamora Titan, Drax Destroyer, Groot Le-Tree and Kužiš Ego. A weird group of unlikely criminals, on the run, having fun (or at least that’s what Quill would say). 

Their leader, Peter Quill, was known as Starlord when he was breaking the law. Quill’s mother died when he was ten and he turned to crime as an escape, he joined an old gang called the Ravagers based off in Missouri who’s leader, Yondu, took under his wing. He started with petty theft before turning to hit and runs and drug deals. He was faced to kill his father, faced with torture and pain unimaginable. Quill faced hell, but he did so with his team. His group formed and become a helpful allies to the Avengers.

Quill’s right hand man, or woman, was his girlfriend Gamora Titan. Her father was the chief of police in Brooklyn and her sister, Nebula, decide to join. She was adopted along side Nebula and was the ‘troubled’ kid as they called her. She despised her father, Officer Thanos Titan, and decided that she would rebel. Gamora had blown up twelve police cars, robbed three banks and dealt more cocaine and heroin than anyone should’ve by the age of sixteen. Whilst running on the streets, she met Quill and they became an unlikely duo, meeting and forming the group of misfits.

The youngest of the group was a thirteen year old Groot Le-Tree, an immigrant who decided to steal from one of the Guardians suppliers. The gang recruited him and became his family. Groot was a practically mute, a few words said here and there but nothing much. He hid behind his gameboy and phone. If someone who wasn't in the group looked at him, they would see a naive teen dragged into shit but Groot was so much more. He was a fighter, a hacker, their getaway driver. He was family

Than you had Kužiš Ego, mainly called Mantis by everyone as her name translated from ancient Latin. The seventeen year old was their medic, their healer. She was trained to read expressions and emotions despite people’s blank expressions. The small Asian girl was invisible to the naked eye and nobody even knew she was in the group. Mantis was Quills half sister and god help anyone who disrespected the precious bean.

Rocket Racoon was their gadget guy, the mechanics of the group. He developed untouched technology and, despite his asshole attitude, he was the most appreciated members. He was experimented on as a kid, becoming an outcast among many people, but he wore his scars proud and nobody in their group gave him shit, the last one who did lost their head. 

The muscle of the group was Drax. The Destroyer he was branded, a hunky man who lacked with brain cells but was smart enough to understand the plans and dangers that came with the job. Not much was known about him apart from the fact that he lost his wife and daughter because of his old job as a hit man. He tracked down the bastard, who happened to be the Guardian's victim, and shot the fucker, that was how he met the gang and joined his new found family.

The Revengers were one of the smallest yet well known gangs in NYC. They were lead by Thor after he left the Avengers. He went undercover with Bruce to find someone called the Grandmaster who had a bounty out on them. Bruce and Thor met with “Tom’s” younger brother Loki, another criminal who was running from the law. Loki and his friend Val decided to team up with Bruce and Tom, successfully taking down the Grandmaster and running into their sister, Hela. 

Loki didn't have a codename, instead keeping his name the same as the norse God of Mischief. He was a trickster, a silver tongued thief with a horrible track record. Adopted and disowned by the Odinson’s, Loki ran from home, turning to a life of crime at the age of eleven. He met Val when he was thirteen and they both got roped into the wrong gang, working under the Grandmasters orders or face death. Escaping at fourteen and seventeen, and running since.

Val Karie was an unknown and unseen criminal with a clean track record despite what she has done. Orphaned at ten, she lived on the streets before meeting and quickly befriending Loki. She had skills in tech, along with high skills with spying (and how to get away without a trace), how to cover up murder and how to hack into any system in three minutes flat. 

Than you had the strays, the ones who picked up random jobs and helped out when possible. You had Peter Parker, orphaned at six, than adopted by his aunt and uncle before watching them died at the age of twelve. Peter adopted the name Spider-Man whilst working undercover with Natasha after showing off his acrobatic skills. Spider like wonders, Natasha called the both of them. The young sixteen year old had seen too much and it had fucked him up so much that he worked as a getaway driver, as a hacker, he helped wherever he could if it meant he could get some food. Tony and Natasha decided it right to take the kid under their wing with Tony legally adopting the kid and training him undetectably.

You had Hope and Scott Lang, the married couple working under the alias of the Wasp and Ant-Man. Hope’s father, Hank Pym was a cold and calculated man, broken after the disappearance of his wife and Hope's mom. But deep down, both Hope and Hank knew that they had a strong bond. Hope had the cleanest track record ever and worked beside her dad whilst Scott was the polar opposite and had ended up in three different prisons over petty theft. 

The Black Panther was another, a nanotechnology suit with a sleek black cat design, T'Challa was a king, a leader of his own group he liked to call Wakanda, or Wakandians when addressing them. He held a lot of respect for all the ladies that he worked with, he got treated how he treated others. The Wakandians lived by a code: Trust and family, loyal and brave, Wakanda Forever, Traitors never. His sister, Shuri, was their wiz tech, the best technology, the best weapons, the best science the world had to offer. 

Manhattan, what a troubled place to live.


	2. I call shot gun, said the gun to the dead.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I've decided to give this chapter a go, opinions please :)))

Peter Parker was a strange child. A creepy obsession over spiders since the first second he saw one but couldn't handle being in the same room as them. A mess of caramel curls and big bambi eyes that shone like the sun. A sweet smile that hid lies. That hid pain. Dimples that melted hearts, fingers that killed men. 

He was six when his parents died, in debt to a drug lord really did suck. So he travelled from Italy to Queens and took up home with his aunt and uncle, May and Ben. They were always there, first day of school, first fights (that May secretly felt proud of her nephew for putting them boys in their rightful places) and of course first heart breaks. May was everything to Peter, his horrible cook with a golden heart, his superhero that chased away all things bad. Ben, oh god Ben, he was what Peter aspired to be. A strong minded man, a man who spoke with passion, a great husband and an even better father figure. Peter loved them, but as all things are, love never lasts too long. How one fateful night could fuck someone over so bad, well, that's just the Parker Luck.

A big argument, Peters curfew to be exact, kicked off a fight. Plates flew, glasses smashed. Yes, Peter had an anger issue but it wasn't that bad, was it? He nicked Mays face and when that trickle of blood dribbled down her tear stained cheek, he froze. _Monster!_ His mind screamed, his throat exploded and heart stopped. A retched sob, wet and powerful, clawed its way through sealed lips and he ran, blurry eyes leading the blinded way into the rainy night. God how he wished Ben never followed, god how he wished he'd have just listened; but that's the way life is. A stupid mistake at twelve and you fuck up.

The mob had found the Parkers. Blood thirsty revenge toured it's way through every fibre of Peter's body and he. Saw. _RED!_ He clawed at throats, hit hard and dislocated bones. Screams and grunts along with flesh against blooded flesh was all Queen's heard that night. Well, that and a gun shot. Peter saw the flash of silver before the ring happened. He saw it, and did jack shit. The gunshot wasn't as loud as Peter had thought. The metal fragment spiralled through the air, piercing Ben's chest without a struggle. The wound was small in his flesh and his blood leaked like the way crying eyes leaked salty tears. He was stunned, to know his uncle was dying, and not be overwhelmed by the emotion he had assumed would accompany such a violent end his mind screamed, eyes watching this happen. There was something almost bitter sweet as Ben bled out, losing consciousness with a blood sick smile on his already pale face.

Peter couldn't bare it, the fact that his uncle, his blood, his fucking family was going to _die _right there, in a dirty street on Queens whilst his shooter, his killer stood there with a twisted grin stuck on his orange skin, teeth, piss yellow with holes and all, showing as he fucking cackled. Peter couldn't take it and he ran. He ran dead straight into the man and tackled him to the ground. Dirty fingers prying into the mans bloodied gashes as Peter climbed over the man with fury in his bones and a hunger for revenge in his heart. Peters wild hands found the mans gun and he connected in to the bastards head, Peter's shoulder dislocating in the process as a sickening bang sounded with a strangled gasp quick to come. It was a quick task and everything passed like a blur. He could still remember the moment his childhood died; the moment when he looked up- blood covering his face and a dead mans body between his feet- and saw his aunt, his May, staring at him like the monster he was- _is_. 

He loved his aunt, but he knew she would call the cops. He'd get sent down and he couldn't have that. He wouldn't have that. A whispered a heart filled _sorry _ and shot her right between her eyes, the image of her dying face, mouth gaping and eyes glassy, will forever be sketched into his skull. 

The sixteen year old buried the truth but kept the gun. Witty puns and stupid jokes covered up the fact that every time he shot a gun, no matter how big or small, the face of his aunt and uncle would forever be etched into his mind. Every car that he jacked would remind him of what he was, every service he hacked would remind him of who he is, and every fucking time he helped out would remind him of how he could never return. But who said that was a bad thing?

He regretted every mistake he made, every death, but he'd never change it. Not even if it could bring back his family. And that was the twisted truth that hid in smiles. No amount of school, no amount of normality could change him because he would always be the monster he is. A killer who moved like a spider. A hacker who never left a trace. A teenager who screwed up and will continue to do so. It was just him against the world. 

He had his family, ashes kept in the two bullets that were shot at them. 

He had his friends, their body's mangled and crippled forever in his brain.

He had his life, and there was no point of return.

Peter Parker loved the people he killed. He loved May like he loved no-one else. He loved Ben from the bottom of his heart. They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

Peter Parker cared for the people he killed. He cared for Harry like he would a brother, but insanity won out and Peter had to stop him. He cared for Gwen, his beloved, he was going to stop killing, anything for her, but in an attempt to save her, he killed her; her blood on his hands.

Peter Parker would die for the people he killed; if only he could.

He loved them, he loved them all, and he killed them with a deep regret that he would never ever regret. 


	3. The world turned upside down.

Liz was smart. She hid in plain site and helped where she could. Liz was pretty, she always used that to her advantage. But Liz made a grave mistake when she decided to go undercover within Stark Industries. 

It was simple. Get intel, get out, save her loved ones. Her father, Adrien Toomes, knew it was a risk but with Liz being so strong minded, well, there was no stopping her. So they set up a plan, five months working from the inside with intel slowly leaking out to the NYPD. It was clever, undetectable. It was fool proof, nothing could go wrong. It was that simple until someone ruined it. They just walked into the picture with curly brown hair and a cute fucking smile and Liz knew she was helpless. 

Did she forget to mention the smartass was actually a child genius? Because that's what he was. Peter Parker, hacker extraordinaire with a face like apple pie. 

So she laid low, followed the rules and worked twice as hard. She decided to edge herself away slowly and it was going to work. It had to work. But fucking Peter Parker with his goddamn perfect everything swooped in and stole her heart.

* * *

It was Monday; mid way September and Peter came in for an annual security check as well as a small lunch date with Stark. He was half way through a couple hundred zeros and maybe an extra thousand ones before he came across a mistake. An error that screamed RAT; of course there was a rat, why couldn't anything go right for once. He just wanted to eat some fries and go home, does he look like he wanted to stay in and track down their fucking mole? NO. It wasn't right, wasn't fair. So he went to the best hacker he knew. He went to Ned Leeds.

The chubby Hawaiian teen, floored by Peter's relationship with Iron-man, was happy to hack and check so Peter left to find that damn girl that stuck on his mind. Liz Allan.

She was a stunner. Big brown eyes and long tanned legs. A mini skirt and those ridiculously high ankle boots. She was amazing. Perfect in every way. Peter could just sit there and stare, creepy or not, and wouldn't be able to drag his eyes away. 

"H-hey, Liz? You busy right now?" Peter asked, that dumb love struck smile on his face as he looked up at the older teen. 

"I'm free, what's up?" She asked, a carefree smile playing on those red stained lips. 

"I'm going go grab a milk-shake and was wondering if you wanted to join me. Mr. Stark is busy and I'm really hungry." It was perfect, this way he spent more time with Liz and got to eat. A ten outta ten plan.

So the two left to a decent McDonalds down the road, strawberry milkshakes and big macs to satisfy their taste buds. A couple minutes passed with Peter day dreaming into those chocolate brown eyes before he decided to do some hacking of his own. It would make sense to ask some assistant if she'd seen anything suspicious, right? He is only worried about the company, totally normal.

"So, uh, Liz, you seen anything suspicious lately?" He started, eyes studying her smooth skin as she shifted in her seat.

"Like, like what? I mean lots happens at SI, right?" She chuckled something desperate and nervous and wow, Peter was intrigued. Seeing Liz nervous on the spot was amazing. It was like watching a caged spider trying to find its way out of a glass bowl. "The other day Jake, you know Jake, right, anyways, Jake blew up something in the labs and it smelt like rotting rabbit," she chuckled again and all Peter could think of was, _who the fuck was Jake? _Because they thing with Peter was, he's never forgotten a face, nor a name, and never in his life has he met a bloody Jake.

"Jake who? I must know him, just my memory isn't as great when I know like everyone." He chuckled playfully, watching how Liz's eyes widened slightly. 

* * *

_Shit! Is he on to me? Nah, he cant be. I've been careful, right? Right?! _Her mind was screaming that it was a trap but she'd been so careful that one simple screw up would just ruin everyone's life, and no way would she have that. So she played the helpless crush card.

Liz flicked her hair behind her shoulder and racked her baby blue nails through every strand as she talked about "Jake" the lowly intern who was new to the business. The whole back story was fake, filled with silly memories from when she was actually in school with her old lab partner. She couldn't let Parker know that she knew Stark was Iron-man. Even worse than that, she couldn't let him know that her dad was gathering enough evidence to put the Avengers away for a lifetime. All she needed to do was keep Parker away from a laptop for another five minutes. 

That stupid ring tone that she knew belonged to Ned Leeds echoed into her ear like nails down a chalkboard. Why was Ned calling Parker? He gave her that cute ass smile and a whispered sorry whilst he answered the phone with a stupid: "What's up, bro?"

She couldn't make out what was being said, Peter moved further and further away and _holy fuck, are they on to me?! _Liz smiled when he looked back and hung up on Ned.

"Hey, Liz. This has been really great," he chuckled and pulled out his phone and some air pods, handing one to her whilst the Hamilton soundtrack drifted into her ear. "But we gotta get back to work, Mr. Stark wants me and Ned to finish up something in his lab and I can't keep the boss waiting." He chuckled and Liz was remined of how young he was, how he was fucking with stuff he couldn't possible understand. He held his hand out and interlocked fingers with her and they were off, into the pits of hell; Stark Industries.

* * *

Liz didn't speak much on their walk back and Peter wasn't dumb to know why. He couldn't actually believe that Elizabeth Allan was actually cocky enough to give information to the NYPD, of course it was false facts, but still, she defied the family and for that she had to pay. He'd make sure that Leeds got a decent pay rise, maybe he could join the family, the inner circle, but for now, he'd keep giving false facts to Liz and she could dig herself a deeper hole without knowing the truth. 

She'd have to go, maybe in another life she and him could've worked out but not in this life. She's have to die, Peter just had to work out how and why. Maybe a bullet to the had, maybe one to the heart. Maybe she could be stabbed in the back, just like she stabbed him. Alas, love never worked in his favour and he knew she'd have to go somehow, and knowing Stark, he'd make Peter the one to do it. 

A five minute walk was enough time to work out a plan: get Ned and go up to the penthouse, call Mr. Stark and maybe Pepper. Their opinion was what Peter needed. The other could be debriefed later on. Maybe he could see what Pepper's assistant's opinion was, after all, she and Liz were surprisingly close. Maybe she knows something. Peter needed answers and he needed them now. 

He looked up to Liz and gave her a carefree smile with a gentle squeeze of the hand. _Time to play the helpless crush card, Parker. _"Hey, uh, Liz? I know we only talk at work, and I know you're a year older than me but, will, maybe, if you want," Peter rambled and he saw how Liz's heart melted with every passing second. Time to go in for the kill. "Will you go out with me and be my girlfriend? Like, not mine as in you belong to me but mine as in-" he was cut off with a quick peck to the lips and Peter's heart, no matter how crushed, sky rocketed. He should feel bad for gaining her trust to use it against her but the family had his loyalty and that was what he will follow till his death.

* * *

"I think," Pepper stared off, the strawberry blonde goddess happy that both Parker and Leeds showed where their loyalties lied. "That we feed her false information, gain her trust and then killer her off. It's the only thing to do. Maybe you can act as if you want out of the family and have Ms. Allan 'give' you help and see what you can get out of her." Tony nodded behind her whilst she addressed Peter. A swirl of pride built up inside of the adults and they knew that Peter Parker was going to do wonders for their family. "And Mr. Leeds, thankyou for finding out who had been hacking our servers. We offer you extra lab time and a hefty bonus at the end of this week." She gave both the boys a once over before they were dismissed and she crawled into Tony's lap, legs straddling his waist.

"You were amazing, Peps. Those boys will do us proud." Tony whispered as he pecked her lips and hooked his arms around her waist, "they're gonna blow us all away."

* * *

It had been five months and Liz had found out so much. She knew they were going to bomb the president. They were so thick and Peter, poor sweet Peter, he wanted out.

"I cant take it anymore, Liz." He begged, hugging her tight. She knew him to be innocent, to be helpless in this whole situation. "I want out, please help me. " 

And so she was on her way to meet Peter around the back of SI, bags packed and a passport to get him out of the country. She was a saint, she was going to save him. She was going to survive but holy _shit _someone injected something into her neck and stars filled her eyes.

When she came to, Liz was bound to a chair, blood trickled and mattered her face and hair and the strong smell of piss filled the room. Liz was scared shitless because oh fuck she was gonna die! A groan pulled her from her thoughts and she searched the room frantically to see where he was because that groan wa one she'd heard thousand times when she had stayed at his; Peter was here! A shadowy figure was bound to a chair across from her, a black eye and bloodied nose. Her Peter, the poor kid. Sure, she got close to him for information, love was never there, but sex and fighting brought them close and boom! She really did love him. And he was helpless, bound to a chair!

"Peter!" She screamed, her throat dry and rough but desperate. "Peter, please, come on, Pete. Wake up! Please! Peter!" Tears streamed down her face but when baby brown eyes found hers,she sighed heavily. 

"Liz? What the fuck is going on?" Peter tried to move but the chains around his wrist and legs and that fucking rope around his stomach stopped him. "What the fuck?! Liz? Liz!" He sounded so lost and oh, god, Liz never wanted this to happen. "Liz?" He started to cry and Liz couldn't help but feel this to be her fault.

"My fault." She whispered, "this is all my fault." She tried to stop crying but images of her and Peter dead filled her mind. "Help! Please, help!" She began to rock in her chair, frantic and ragged screams filled to room and she was too distracted to see Peter, her Peter, smiling in all the chaos, out of his bounded chair and a gun in his hand.

"Oh, Liz. Sweet, innocent, Liz." Peter taunted, a sick twisted smile painted on his baby face as he walked towards her. "How on earth is anyone going to help you? You got yourself into this mess."

"P-Peter? Oh, oh god. Peter, p-please." She began to cry, snort and tears mixed with blood and she couldn't help but feel so lost. "W-what's going on? Please, P-Pete, help me." 

"Oh, Liz. Sweet, loveable Liz who though she could help me? This is who I am. What's so bad about that? I know what you've been doing." He straddled her lap and kissed her bloodied lips, licking his own when he pulled back. "You taste as sweet as you look, but honey, you've made a grave mistake and messed with my family. Now, why do you think anyone's going to help you. The police that have your facts? Your information. It's all fake, and the coppers that have your facts, well, they work for us." He patted her cheek and walked away again, pacing the width of the room. 

Liz sat there. She. Had. Been. PLAYED! By Peter of all people! Liz knew she fucked herself over. "I killed your dad." Liz looked up, tears still falling and her forehead bleeding again as she listened to how Peter twisted a knife into her dad's neck. "I have photos, a slide show. A selfie with your bloodied dead dad. Wanna see? No? Okay. Answer just one question and it'll be quick."

She spat in his face and that was one of two mistakes. The sick satisfaction that came with her saliva dripping down his cheek. "Rot in hell, Parker." And that was her second mistake. She expected a punch, a slap, hell she expected death, not a laugh. 

"Oh, Ms. Allan. You do make me laugh. Tell me why? Why did you think you could stop us?" He pulled out a swish army knife and nicked her cheek twice and sitting down in his own seat, ankles crossed, elbows resting on his knees . "What made you feel so strong, so independent. Well, we know you didn't work alone, they died to, their bodies are next door with you dad. I want to know why you though you could win? Why try?"

"Because you are _MONSTERS_! You _ruined my life_! I hate you. You and your fucking family killed my mum, killed my sister. You fucking ruined my life and I hope you _ROT IN HELL!" _That just made more tears fall and made Peter laugh harder. "Stop laughing!"

"You, you though you could stop us?!" He laughed so hard, snorting and crying. Anger filed her body because who was this and what the hell changed Peter into this?! "You cant stop us. No matter how hard you try, we will always be here. Someone will follow our footsteps. We will be a plague in NYC and you wont be around to see it happen. It's shame, really it is. I think I loved you, but my family comes first. So, bon voyage."

"You wont get away with, with this!" She screamed, staring the gin down like it couldn't hurt her.

"But, baby girl, I already have." And with that he let the gun fire, the bullet flying cleanly through her eye, her body falling limply whilst blood poured onto the floor. "Ah, shit." Peter moved back as the puddle grew and blood seeped onto his shoes. "I just cleaned these!" He growled and walked off whilst the halls of SI were being cleaned up, the low hum of Yorktown echoing in Peter's wake. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was listening to the Hamilton soundtrack whilst writing this, sorry


	4. When people don't listen, shoot their legs.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> snippets of conversations between Clint and Natasha, ft. the Avengers

Clint: I'm excited to make some bad decisions.

Natasha: (rolling her eyes as she cocks her gun) Don't sound too excited about it.

* * *

Peter P: Can you, ya know, hit 'em with your knife?

Natasha: It's called stabbing, kid.

Clint: (stuffing his face with popcorn) That's what he said, hit 'em with ya knife, Tasha.

* * *

Clint: No I'm not buying you a knife for your birthday!

Natasha: But it's pretty!

Clint: NO! 

* * *

Natasha: What the fuck kind of noise what that?!

Clint: (blowing his noise) I sneezed?

Natasha and Tony: That was not a sneeze!

* * *

Natasha: You're gonna break his heart if you pull a stunt like that again!

Clint and Sam: Tony has a heart?

* * *

Clint: I have a solution.

Natasha: What?

Clint It involves fire!

Natasha and the rest of the Avengers: NO!

* * *

Natasha: We currently have five people trying to kill us and you need to pee?

Clint: It's actually eight people.

Natasha: Oh, sorry. Was I not specific? Eight isn't better than five!

Clint: But I need to pee!

* * *

Clint: We can't just steal it!

Natasha: (eyeing the swords on display) No, no, of course. We can just borrow it for a while...and not return it?!

* * *

Clint: Oh, hello life ruiner.

Natasha (eating a bowl of fruit loops) Oh get over it, five years have come and passed, Barton. It was just a movie!

Clint: It was the circle of life, you stone cold bitch!

Tony: What? 

Natasha: I deleted Lion King. (turns to Clint) It's not even that good!

Clint and Peter P: You take that back! (both holding each other, crying)

* * *

Natasha: These are pretty.

Clint: Just because you think they look pretty, doesn't mean they aren't deadly.

Natasha: Hm?

Clint: They are knifes, you have plenty at home.

* * *

Clint: It's silly that this is what you focus on.

Natasha: (smirking) I cant help it, glitter looks really good on you.

* * *

Steve: What's our exit strategy?

Clint and Natasha: Hm?

Sam: Oh dear Jesus, I'm gonna die here.

* * *

Natasha: I'm having a feeling. How do I stop it?

Clint: (blinks and walks away)

* * *

Natasha: Murder wasn't on my agender today.

Clint: It shouldn't be on anyone's agender.

Natasha: (ignoring Clint) It was meant to happen tomorrow.

* * *

Clint: You're not as evil as most people think.

Natasha: Yeah, you're right. I'm so much worse.

* * *

Sam: Hey, do you two have a minute?

Clint: Sure, what's wrong?

Sam: I have a problem.

Natasha: Well now you have two problems.

Sam: (confused) What?

Clint: Three problems.

Sam: (frowning at the duo as they walk away) HEY!

Clint and Natasha: Not interested.

* * *

Natasha: Are those pineapples pink? (looks at Clint with a worried expression) Do you know what colour pineapples are?

Clint: Fucking yellow, but I need alliteration!

* * *

Clint: I have no regrets.

Natasha: You don't even remember what you did!!

* * *

Natasha: I...

Clint: (cuts her off with a hug) I know. Don't worry. I love you too.

* * *

Natasha: Oh shit.

Clint: What?!

Natasha: I think (gags) I just felt a feeling.

Clint: You have GOT to be kidding me!

* * *

Natasha: Stop that. It's too early for you to be in such a good mood.

Clint: It's four thirty in the afternoon, Tasha!?

* * *

Clint: Why do you keep risking your life? To prove a point? For the thrill? Why?

Natasha: (drugged up in a hospital bed) Yes.

* * *

Clint: Why are you so much better at drinking than I am?

Natasha: I'm better than you at everything.

Clint: Archery.

Natasha: (points finger with a slight smirk) Touché.

* * *

Natasha: Do you really think this is a good idea?

Clint: NO!

Natasha: Okay, coll. I'd be worried if you thought it was.

* * *

Clint: I'm trying to have a serious discussion with you.

Natasha: And I'm trying to ignore it.

* * *

James/Bucky: Can I yell across the room and call her an idiot?

Clint: Yes but don't.

* * *

Natasha: Why aren't you afraid of me?

Clint: I've had scarier things to worry about, like seeing Tony naked when he leaves the shower (gags and shudders)

* * *

Clint: No need to repeat yourself, I ignored you perfectly fine the first time.

* * *

Natasha: Why yell at the screen when you know they cant hear you?!

* * *

Natasha: Screw it. Just blow up this place and call it a day.

* * *

Natasha: He's smarted than he looks.

Clint: Aweeee, Nat.

Natasha: Sarcasm goes straight over his head.

* * *

Tony: You just broke protocol seven four dash B nine twenty-one dash D subsection H.

Clint: I'm trying to stay alive, I don't care if I break the bloody rules about who gets the first cup of coffee!!

* * *

Clint: Is that blood?!

Natasha: No?

Clint: Don't answer my question with a question!!

* * *

Clint: Want to see what kind of trouble we can get into?

Sam: We're gonna die, aren't we?

Clint: It's Tuesday, I can control myself.

Natasha: Lies. Lies. Lies!

* * *

Natasha: What's the plan?

Clint: My plan was to follow your plan!

Steve: Jesus Christ, it's just getting lunch.

* * *

Natasha: I'm bitter and complicated. It's one of my charms.

Tony: That isn't what charm means.

Clint: Do you even know how to count?

* * *

Clint: (bound to a chair with rope) Um, hi, sorry, Clint, Barton, Clint Barton. Yeah, I was under the impression that I wasn't going to die today. Can we reschedule for, oh, I don't know, next year?

* * *

Natasha: I think I can forgive him.

Clint: Now or in six years? (pours them both a mug of coffee)

Natasha: Unsure.

* * *

Natasha: You're my favourite person.

Clint: Yeah, yeah. I love you too.

* * *

Natasha: Why are you doing that?

Clint: Doing what?

Natasha: Treating me like a person?

* * *

Clint: I feel empty.

Natasha: I have gummy worms, Cheetos and finding nemo.

Clint: Dude?

Natasha: (arms open for a hug) Dude.

* * *

Clint: You matter.

Natasha: Sure.

* * *

Natasha: I love you idiot.

Clint: Love ya too, idiot.


	5. Fuck-face and her trusty sidekick Cock-muncher.

"You know what I fancy-?" 

"Don't say it." Val cut off, a cold glare sent in Loki's direction. 

The two teens found themselves in Target, weekly shopping whilst hiding out at some dead guys house was never an easy job, especially when they were both broke and hiding from the cops. 

"But I just want chocolate."

"No."

Loki turned on the puppy eyes, big baby blues pleading from Hershey's chocolate. Damn those eyes, her Kryptonite.

"But it's been so long-"

"No-"

"BUT-"

"We ARE BROKE, COCK-MUNCHER!" She yelled, hair flying as she fully turned her body towards him, eyes sharpening into a steely glare as if to tell him to defy what she's said. "We are broke, Loki. Living with ten dollars to get us through the week and unless you have a secret stash of stolen wallets and extra cash, then I suggest you shut your mouth before I send you out on the streets and leave you to the hungry pervs of the streets!" She growled lowly, already awear of the widened eyes of by passers and concerned moms. 

"Val, we haven't eaten anything filling, anything remotely nice, since last month. I just want a treat. Even a small one. I get it, you're pissed. So am I though!" He bite out, eyes flashing with deep dark irritation. 

Loki and Val turned from each other and walked down the opposite ends of the aisle, meeting up again in the centre of the next one, Pringles in Loki's hands whilst apples and bananas in Val's. A questioning eyebrow rose as Val looked into Loki's hand. 

"Well, a snack needs a snack of course." He simply replied, a bored tone to marry an over exaggerated eyeroll. 

"Wouldn't that be classes as cannibalism? I mean, you aren't a snack, no way, but wouldn't it be, like, me eating myself?" Val asked, taking the chips (crisps) from his hand and putting it back on a random shelf. "Move it, Cock-Muncher." She shouted over her shoulder, receiving a dirty glare from a mother covering her child's ears. 

Loki walked behind Val, fully taking in her form as her hips swayed from side to side and her footsteps became heavier. It was no secret to the two teens that they looked like skin and bone. Val's sunken cheeks and dull brown eyes, her sickly complexion and slight limp from when she was running after that man who stole her last five dollars. Loki didn't fair off any better, scars deep and bold on his arms, his hunched form and sluggish movements. The fifteen year old really needed sleep but his concern lied within Val's health. 

She could try to hide it, heaven and hell knew she could, but Loki was the master when it came to lies and her deinking problem paired with shitty health wasn't helping the fact that they were in December with thin winter jackets and a freezing house. So he stayed up every night, watching Val toss and turn, worrying for the girl he'd come to call family. He's already lost his mother, he couldn't lose another, not again. And with no word, not even a peep, from that oath of a brother, Loki feared that they wouldn't make it out alive together if Val didn't get help. 

A wicked cough brought him back to reality and he saw the eighteen year old's shaky hands wipe blood from her mouth, doing so discreetly that one wouldn't have noticed if one wasn't watching. 

"I mean, I'm much more than a snack, but yes, you could say it's cannibalism." Loki shrugged as he caught up with Val. "Hey, Val?" 

A deep sigh left her mouth which Loki took as his que to continue. "What is it, Midget?"

"First, don't call me that. Second, what do you say about giving me a quarter for a pay phone or something?" He asked, a carless tone for such a carful boy. "I mean, if we have cash left over, Fuck-face. Got someone to call and, ya know, I would use my own but I spent it last week on the shop and; and you're not listening are you?"

"Hmm?" She hummed, a playful look in the young brunettes eyes as she barely glanced at the boy she's come to call a brother. "Yes, Luke? Did you say something?"

One full second passed before he picked up a Cheetos packet and chucked it at her head, watching in satisfaction as it bounced from her forehead to the floor, barely listening to a woman tusk and mutter a: "Ugh, children" as she walked past. They both collapsed into laughter, a horrid cackle leaving Val's lips as she and Loki grasped each other for balance.

It was moments like this she knew she'd rarely get. Only once did she seriously see Loki laugh like this. 

* * *

_Loki and Val shared a room with twenty other children, from ten to twenty years, all squished into a room that stank of BO and left over food. Val watched the door, willing Loki to walk through, whilst Loki and The Grandmaster were in a private meeting. _

_She knew what they were, everyone did. The poor victim of this week was Scrapper 241-K (Loki Odinson) and despite his thrashing and the fight he put up, a bullet between his feet (one that barely missed his toe) shut him up. _

_The loud creak gained her attention and a black eyed Loki walked through to the centre of the room where he proceeded to collapse to the floor. Val rushed, chucking and pushing people out of her way as she collected the fragile boy in her arms, her grip tight and protective as she maneuverer him onto her bed (it was a deflated camping bed with a thin ass blanket, not what someone would call a bed, but hey-ho, doesn't matter now) and wrapped him up into her vice like grip._

_"He-he," Loki stumbled over his words, his breath ragged and despite her attempt to shush him, he continued. "He couldn't get, get it up." He chuckled breathlessly, a mischievous twinkle in those dull baby blues. "He, he fell asleep and I got s-sent back." And the boy seemed to be insane in her opinion as he began to chuckle like a mad man, tears seeping into her shoulder, his whole body shaking in mirth._

* * *

What Val wouldn't give to get more moments like this with him, one where it showed his real age, his innocence that was snatched to quickly. 

"Sure, Cock-sucker. I'll give you a dollar fifty, good enough? Go do whatever bullshit you need to do and meet me outside the carpark. You're late and leave." She smirked and watched his retreating figure with a ghost of a smile, one that had seen better days.

* * *

Loki's thin, little legs carried him to the closest pay phone and he punched in that one number he memorised by heart, one that he knew could save him. 

Three rings and a ragged: "Hello?" 

Loki breathed out a rough laugh, a sickly cough fighting its way though his throat as he answer with a scratchy voice. "It's Loki. Help me. If you give a shit about my oath of a brother, help me."

"Where are you, I'm on my way?"

"Thankyou, Banner, truly."

"I'm doing this for Thor, not you."

"I know. I'm still grateful."

"So, where are you?"

"Target, the closest to your buddy Stark's tower, and Banner?"

"Yes?"

"Bring your doctors bag, please."


	6. Family of idiots.

Gamora prided herself when it came to organisation, the way that everything had it's place, she knew when and what would happen and where it would be. Organisation was one thing she couldn't live without, but when it cam to her team, her family, her idiots, she wouldn't try to organise them even if you paid her. 

Her boyfriend, Peter Quill, was one of the messiest people alive, coffee cups all over the house, empty Cheeto packets and stale Doritos scattered the kitchen table. His love for old music could trump his love for her, but she knew that she belonged in his messy house but lovable home, despite her mad OCD, she would never give him up. 

Peter was amazing, cooking dinner every night, bacon and eggs for breakfast in bed. He would plant the sweetest kisses upon her head and watch hundreds upon hundreds of horror movies despite the fact that he couldn't stand gore- she never understands how he can kill without second though but can not for the life of him watch Annabel of Chucky without screaming like a little girl. He was such as sweet innocent bean with the mind of a child. 

If she had to guess why he was like that, it would be down to his mother. Bless her soul, Gamora had never met her, only heard heart warming stories, but one stuck out to her about Peter and how he tried to get a job at seven to pay for his mom, to pay for their life. He showed her the photos of him decked out in a dark grey hired suit, stained with coffee, sleeves rolled up seven times and the tie hanging past his knees. She had never seen such a cute boy, curly brown hair and rosy cheeks, big brown doe eyes filled with such wonder that it crushed her that it got taken away too soon. 

But the story about how his mother never wanted him to grow up, to be forever young and carefree; she could only guess that it was the reason Peter was like how he was. 

So when it came to movie nights and she saw that Peter wasn't his usual self, she'd put on White Chicks or Star Trek and let Peter lay his head in her lap whilst her fingers brushed brown curls away from his ears and whispered a faint "I love you" with a soft smile often missable to the naked eye.

* * *

Rocket Racoon was someone she knew she could sit with and snark to without it going over their heads. 

He was short, scruffy and always covered in grease and oil. Dark brown hair, greying slightly, and a shaggy beard. His eyes held such mischief and madness. His trait that just made him amazing company and a great friend. 

His inventions were always on the table, parts of metal and tools scattered across the living room floor and honest to god, Gamora would've preferred to step on Lego over stepping on screws and nails. 

Rocket was an asshole and Gamora was grateful to have him in her idiot family, despite the fact that he and Peter seemed to argue like brothers.

_ Maybe they were,_ she wondered to herself as she drank green tea prepared by Groot and watched her two boys argue whilst Drax threw in the occasional "YEAH!".

_After all, we all know Peter's dad got around._

* * *

Gamora woke at shit o'clock in the morning to a heavy bang on the door. A constant bang, bash, crash that everyone apparently slept through. 

Rolling her eyes, she shuffled from her and Peter's room to the front door, ninja stars in hand in case of a threat, and pulled open the door to reveal nobody, just a small bundle in a basket and the only thoughts in her mind was that someone had the guts to drop their baby on their doorstep, a baby not much older than a few months. 

There was a letter attached to her. Claiming that Peter Asshole Quill (yes, exactly written like that) was the father. No other evidence apart from the letter, not even a DNA test, so Gamora guessed that they had to take the asshole mother's word. 

Honestly who would leave their child on a doorstep?

Gamora was shocked, Rocket was pissed off for his disturbed night, Drax had a confused smile on his face and Groot seemed uninterested. Mantis was cooing at the child and Peter, bless the asshole, looked like he was going to piss his pants (and yes, that was an expression).

"I cant look after a baby!" Peter yelled only to be shushed by Gamora. He lowered his voice with a slight pained facial expression. "I can barely look after myself, 'Mora. What if she really isn't mine?"

"Is that thing supposed to know how to glare at their age?" Rocket interrupted with a grumble, his question met with confused and angry glances from the Guardians. "What? She's glaring at me! Look!" He grinned, his sharp snaggle tooth showing. "She could kill people with that glare... Okay, sorry."

In all honesty, Rocket wasn't wrong. The baby had opened her big emerald eyes. And was indeed glaring at Rocket like he was some kind of alien. Peter sighed because she did look like him a lot. She had dark blond hair with slight ginger hues (she looked like him when he was a baby, oh the embarrassment he got for being both blonde and ginger!) and his light olive skin colour, probably his kickass, badass attitude and super cool music taste (or as Rocket would later put it: Asshole attitude and shitty music, but Peter would beg to differ). While he got lost in his thoughts, Gamora secretly slipped the baby into his arms with a satisfied smile. He gave an annoyed sigh which only widened his. "Fine, I'll admit she looks a lot like I do... Any name suggestions."

"Rocket Jr."

"NO!"

"Rocky?"

"How about Starla?"

"Steven?"

Peter turned to Drax with a questionable gaze. "Steven? She's a girl... What, what is wrong with you?" He shook his head. "You have horrible taste in names.

Drax looked down at the tiny bundle, that damn smile still on his confused face. "What should she be called then?"

"How would I know?! I'm NOT father material-"

"I agree with him!" Rocket shouted with a smug grin on his face.

"Sure you're an asshole at times but I think you'll make a lovely father…" Gamora mumbled, eyes still on his daughter.

"Why do you say that? You of all people should agree with Rocket."

"She just fell asleep in your arms." Mantis butted in, innocently ignorant to Peter's discomfort.

Peter looked at the baby, rolled his eyes and sat down, rocking her gently back to sleep. "That doesn't say anything..."

"Yeah! Sure! That doesn't say anything! It's just pure damn coincidence!" Rocket rolled his eyes, rubbing tiredly at his eyes.

"Future Daddy Quill." Groot grumbled, walking away to his room.

"Not you too…" Peter whispered in betrayal that it was Rocket that was the only one who agreed he wasn't fit for this role. 

There was an awkward silence. "So, does the letter say anything else aside from telling me I'm a dick and that it is my daughter?"

Gamora held to letter. "Nope, there's not even a name. But it does say her birthday and that she's allergic to nuts and eggs."

"Then we'll get rid of those and it seems no more eggs for breakfast."

"Shit…" Rocket swore. "Thanks a lot... baby? Seriously, you need to name her. Like, anything, just name her!"

"Meredith. Done. She has a name." Peter said. 

"That name is worse than Steven, I'm sure you can do better than that!"

"That was my mom's name you son of bitch..."

Rocket's grin left his face and he lowered his head in slight guilt. "But it fits her perfectly..."

"Better."

"...Dickhead."

"What was that?" Gamora asked tightly, eyebrow rose as if to say defy me.

"Nothing."

"That's Better, idiot."

"Maybe you should give her a second name, just in case." Drax suggested.

"Lilium."

"Hey, that's a nice one, Mantis." Rocket said.

"What did she said?"

"Lily but in Latin."

"Meredith Lilium Quill…" Gamora mumbled. "I like it."

Drax looked up suddenly, his finger pointing accusingly at Peter. "Where will Lily sleep?"


	7. A guide to giving up.

Gamora: Where's your wallet?

Peter: ...

Gamora: For fuck sakes, seriously?!

* * *

Rocket: Why are you buying that?

Drax: It's good.

Rocket: It's good? Good means nothing to me.

Drax: Well, why are you buying that?

Rocket: It's easy to cook.

Drax: You can see over the stove?

Rocket: You ass- 

* * *

Gamora: Will you stop eating the bloody popcorn?

Peter: (muffled) But it's good.

Gamora: It's for the tree, dammit.

Peter: But I'm hungry!

* * *

Peter: My mom made that oddment for me! Don't fucking touch it!

Rocket: I'm just looking!

Peter: You're gonna break it!

Rocket: Will not.

-FIVE MINS-

Rocket: (looks surprised, shrugs) Dickhead was right.

* * *

Lily: Dada!

Peter: Go bug someone else, Dada is busy.

Lily: Ro!

Rocket: Hiya, Ugly, where's ya Daddy? Off being a dick ya say, nothing new there

* * *

Gamora: Can we please watch another movie, anything but Elf.

Mantis: But Elf is great.

Gamora: Ye, the first thousand times!

Drax: But you admit it's a great Christmas movie?

Peter: It's fucking November!

* * *

Mantis: Calm down, there are two sides to every story.

Peter: Ye, but he's a douche-bag in both versions.

* * *

Drax: You are so ugly.

Mantis: As are you.

Drax: Yes, but you are the ugliest.

* * *

Gamora: Why are your hands red?

Drax: Very good question.

* * *

Rocket: Do you think-

Drax: (not looking up from his book) I am a very good thinker. I think all the time. 

* * *

Peter: What am I supposed to do with a teenage boy?

Rocket: Why you asking me?

Peter: You were a boy once, or have you always been a little rat?

Rocket: Fuck off.

Peter: Just answer the damn question.

Rocket: I don't know, I block out every moment of my childhood.

* * *

Drax: Did you hear that scream?

Groot: (standing beside Drax) ...

* * *

Rocket: I never... never said thankyou.

The Guardians: For what?

Rocket: For.. well, giving me a family.

* * *

Groot: (watches Rocket fall down ten steep stairs) ...

Rocket: Why didn't you say watch out.

Groot: … (smiles slightly)

* * *

Peter: Look, Lily's first steps!

Lily: (falls flat on her face)

Rocket: Poor, Rat.

Gamora: I swear to God, I will skin you alive.

Rocket: Golly Green Giants angry?

Drax: I believe she's on her lady cycle.

Peter: Ew, Drax. What the hell man?

Drax: Are you on your cycle too, Quill?

* * *

Mantis: You better not have gotten caught.

Rocket: I hope we caught the attention of the FBI.

Peter: Are you insane?

Mantis: I do want to see a door being kicked down.

Rocket: See, she gets it.

* * *

Peter: If I'm dying, let me just eat the cake in peace.

Drax: But you are very much alive.

Peter: Dude, I just want to eat cake.

Rocket: Are you sure you wanna add to that fat gut, Homer Simpson?

* * *

Gamora: Give me your hand.

Peter: What, why?

Gamora: Just do it, Idiot.

Peter: NO!

Gamora: (snatches his hand) I'm trying to hold hands, don't be a pussy.

* * *

Rocket: Okay, VSCO girl, E-girl and Soft girl. Our team mates.

Peter: Mantis is a soft girl, no doubt. Gamora is our E-girl and Groot is our VSCO.

Rocket: What. No. Not my Groot.

Peter: He owns a Hydro flask and I'm pretty sure he says And I oop.

Groot: (sign language) It's Anna I oop. get it right.

* * *

Peter: Are you even listening?

Gamora: Yes.

Drax: No.

Rocket: It just takes me a while to understand stupid ideas.

* * *

(After a drug deal gone wrong)

Peter: I love you.

Lily: Dada?!

Peter: Yeah, it's Dada.

* * *

(Two years later)

Lily: Dada. I drew Momma at school today. 

Peter: (confused) Who's Momma?

Lily: (points to Gamora) That's Momma silly.

Gamora: (tearing up) Yeah, I'm her Mom, idiot.

* * *

Peter: Act natural. Don't look suspicions at all.

(Five minutes later)

Peter: Is it hot in here? I feel kinds hot.

Gamora: Quill. Stop panicking.

Rocket: Yeah, act natural.

Peter: I am acting natural, any normal fucking person would be panicking if they were here.

Drax: The supermarket?

Rocket: I think it's a bed wetting nightmare.

* * *

Drax: Silly how that is the thing you focus on.

Rocket: I can't control how my brain works.

* * *

Rocket: Quill, will you shut up!

Groot: (sign language) He didn't say anything.

Rocket: Yeah, but he's thinking.

* * *

Rocket: Hey, Quill?

Peter: What's up, Shit face?

Rocket: You're petty.

Peter: Damn straight I am.

Rocket: Petty?

Peter: The pettiest.

* * *

Peter: Oh, great. you're alive.

Rocket: Don't sound so sad. I might start thinking you don't like me, Ass-hat.

* * *

(Five years later)

Lily: (to the Guardians) What can't you live without?

Peter: You.

Drax: Oxygen, food and water.

Rocket: My guns.

Groot: (points to his phone)

Gamora: My knifes and swords.

Mantis: (quietly) My family.

* * *

(Five years later-still)

Lily: Auntie Mantis? Why aren't you with Uncle Drax?

Mantis: Because he lied.

Lily: What did he do?

Mantis: (hiding tears, looks away) Called me pretty.

* * *

Gamora: We could go to jail for this.

Peter: Just like old times then, hey.

* * *

Peter: Trust your gut?

Mantis: My gut is just anxiety telling me to abort mission.

* * *

Peter: I'm adrift in a sea of emptiness.

Gamora: Stop being a bloody drama queen.

Peter: (louder) Forever ALONE!

Gamora: Forever a pain.

* * *

Random drug dealer: Don't you have problems with your monsters?

Peter: Nah, we have a truce.

Random drug dealer: A truce?

Peter: Yeah, they don't annoy me and I don't play All Stars at 3 in the morning.

* * *

Cop #1: Does your mom know what you do for a living?

Peter: Shut up.

Cop #2: All their mom's are dead, dude.

Cop #1: Guess your mom didn't see you become a disappointment.

Peter: When I get free. I promise I will kill you.

Cop #1 & #2: With what army?

Peter: The Guardians of the fricken Galaxy.

* * *

Peter: Are you even sane?

Rocket: I don't know, ask again some other day.

* * *

Rocket: Go to hell, Quill.

Peter: Only if you'll follow me, Trash Panda.

* * *

Random victim: Ple-please. I am b-b-begging you. Please

Gamora: Well, you're not on your knees and you don't seem that begging type.

Rocket: Don't taunt them, let Star-Lord get the money and we can leave.

Gamora: Fuck off, idiot.

* * *

Peter: Smiles are contagious.

Gamora: Don't worry, I'm vaccinated.

* * *

Peter: Go to hell.

Rocket: And leave you all alone up here?

* * *

Peter: But you have to. 

Mantis: It's tradition.

Rocket: Common, 'Mora.

Gamora: Don't call me that.

Rocket: Sorry, jeez.

Gamora: Besides, tradition is just peer pressure from dead people.

* * *

Peter: You gotta stop that.

Gamora: Stop what?

Peter: Saying things that make me want to marry you.

Gamora: I asked if you wanted tea?

Peter: Dear sweet Jesus! Stop it. 

Rocket: You are giving me cavities. Take the tea Quill, you aint a smooth talker anymore.

* * *

Mantis: Can you please stop talking?

Peter: I've given it some though, but I'll have to refuse the request.

* * *

Thug: Bring me to your leader.

Peter: I am the leader, dude.

Thug: (looking Peter up and down with a confused face) Really?

* * *

Rocket: Who do you fear most on the team?

Drax: Mantis.

Rocket: What? Why?

Drax: She's too sweet to imagine angry. Angry people are always the sweetest.

* * *

Cop #3: You're mad!

Rocket: Tell me something I don't know.

* * *

Peter: (dancing around the kitchen: Yeah!

Lily: (joining in) Hey!

Peter: What's the matter with your hair!

Gamora: (joining in) Oh, yeah, yeah! What's the matter with your mind!

Peter: I knew you could sing!

* * *

Groot: (sign language) Can we go home, Rocket. I just want to sleep.

Rocket: Yeah, buddy. Sorry about almost getting you killed.

Groot: (sign language) Make up for it with cookies. 


	8. Cold, calculated, and a fucking bastard.

"My father was cold. Calculated and of course a fucking bastard. He never gave two shits about me and only showed me the slightest bit of affection whenever I fell asleep in the car and he would bring me back into the house. Mind in you, I was faking it. I don't think he ever said 'I love you' or ever call me 'son'." Tony took a shuddering breath, the whisky in his glass tipped over the edge slightly, spilling and staining white fur carpets. 

"I went down a  spiral of drinking, recklessness, I guess I know where I got it from. I was just  _there, _ I was the one around when he was angry, he created me, so I guess he decided he could use me as he wanted. It didn't start till I was 4, didn't stop till he died. I made excuses for him, endured it because I made myself believe that he had every right to do what he did." Tony looked into Peppers eyes, tears threatening to fall but his damn ego wouldn't allow that.

"On my fourth birthday, he nearly killed me. Jarvis and another house maid begged me to press charges, but Howard had seemed so sorry, laying it on thick, making it seem like he loved me. I fell for it, all I wanted was his love and approval. Because what else was I meant to do? Howard was a fucking drug lord. He ruled these streets and then gave it to me without an apology for the fucking pain he caused me! 

When I turned ten, I burnt the skin off my hands for his approval. He handed me a burning hot piece of copper, I think, I can't remember what it was exactly, all I remember was that it was red hot; and he told me he'd never approve of me if I didn't hold it. So I did, I held it. That's why... That's why I can't be handed things." Tony choked up at the end there, sucking in a deep breath and curling in on himself.  Just because he'd forced his out of his mind, didn't make it easier to deal with.

"Stark men are made of Iron, he'd always tell me that. It was on my twelfth birthday card. And I pushed down my feelings, pushed away everything and smiled because I am made of Iron, right? My mother was an alcoholic. I fucking loved her, never have stopped, but she just turned a blind eye." Tony blinked away the tears and Pepper held him close in a vice like grip. 

"Uh, Mr. Stark. I don't mean to be rude or anything, but why are you telling me this? Like, I know about your dad, you've told me this over and over again. I just don't get why." Peter said, seeming pretty put out about being in the living room with _THE TONY STARK! _Peter pushed down his fanboy, knowing that Ned would be disappointed when he heard about this, and shuffled from foot to foot whilst watching Tony Frickin' Stark pour his heart and soul out to him. 

"Ah, yes. You see," Tony slipped back into his carefree persona and ushered Peter closer to the crime lord. "My father never did shit for me, and I know for a damn fact that the only great thing he ever did was die in that damn car crash. But I would say that in his heart somewhere lied an emotion; I don't know what it was, probably not love and kindness, but it still existed. Now, I'm a walking, talking teddy bear and I know you need love in your sold and distant life. So, I've, we've, sorry Peps. We've got a question."

Peter felt pretty clueless still but didn't let it show, instead slipping on a neutral face he learnt from Nat. "Right?" He drawled out, eyes scanning both Stark's faces, watching, no, searching for any indication that would help him decipher this damn puzzle because he was fucking clueless.

"Look, Peter. Tony and I want to ask if you will join the family."

"I thought I was in the family. Like ya know, the Avengers are my family." Peter replied, head cocking to the side like a little lost puppy. 

"No, Bambino, what we want to ask you is if you want to become a Stark. Be our son. Our baby boy, Bambino."

Peter was floored because, Tony Frickin' Stark just offered to adopt him! And what the fuck! Like honestly, what the actual hell is going on? Stark just cried in front of him, like full on melt down, then asked Peter to be his child!? What was he meant to say? No? Ha! 

"Is this a prank. Cause if it is, I don't really like it. But if not, then I'll be your child. If you're okay with that it is. Like me bring your child. Whoa, okay. Sure. Not a prank though, cause if it is I will walk out and leave your ass." Peter chuckled and was stunned when he felt tears prick his eyes. "Wow. What the fuck. This is a really weird day." Peter shrugged and collapsed into the armchair promptly, letting out a humourless breath as his eyes closed. 

"Peter? If you don't want this then please tell us. We all know how over the top Tony can be."

"Pep's right, boy. If this is too much then we can back off. And no. This isn't a prank."

"And you're sure. Like I know I'm a lot. Like you can back out now, both of you, and I would fully understand, unless this is what you both want. Cause I wont be upset if you say that you don't, well, I will be sad but I would understand. Like you are both really busy people and neither of you have to feel obligated to adopt me."

"Peter," Pepper chuckled, opening her arms up for the teen to collapse into. "We want this as much as you do."

Peter turned to Tony, the man who was what Peter wanted to be. "And you, Mr. Stark, you want this."

"I want you to be happy, Pete. I am not Howard, and I wont let anything hurt my family, and that means you, Son."

* * *

Steve made his way across the kitchen, two piping hot coffee's in his hand as he settled down beside Bucky. 

Beetlejuice played in the background, the faint sound of Tim Burton's movie drowned out the silence. Bucky- I go by James unless I like you- Barnes was curled up beside his lover, feet tucked beneath his legs, fingers carelessly tapping away as he distracted himself from the elephant in the room. Steve- I will beat your ass if you look as Bucky- Rogers turned to Bucky, eyes watching the brunette until he caved in and groaned.

"What do you want, Stevie?"

"Are you going to tell me what's bugging you?"

"You know what it is."

"I still don't think you should. We know how they'd all react."

"I cant keep living with it."

"Buck-"

"No, Steve. I'm telling Tony. I have to tell him what I did to the Starks."

**Author's Note:**

> I am happy to continue if others want me to, I'm happy and open for suggestions. This could just be a one shot and I don't care. My spelling isn't great and I can hardly think straight half the time. Please comment, I craVE ATteNTIoN!


End file.
